The war has rolled on to other battlefields, but the bombs it left behind still wait patiently in the capital’s ruined streets. In eastern Khartoum’s Burri neighbourhood, authorities recently sealed off an area after an explosion blamed on a landmine triggered by burning waste. Sudanese deminers in bright orange vests moved in, probing the debris with the grim patience their work demands. It was a stark reminder that even as fighting shifts elsewhere, the explosive legacy of Sudan’s civil war continues to claim civilian lives.
Since the Sudanese Armed Forces retook much of Khartoum in 2025, teams from the United Nations Mine Action Service (UNMAS), the Danish Refugee Council, local partner JASMAR and Sudanese military crews have been working block by block. They have already cleared tens of thousands of pieces of unexploded ordnance – artillery shells, rockets, grenades, and now confirmed landmines. Until mid-2025, Khartoum was thought to be free of mines; fresh surveys have changed that picture dramatically. Anti-personnel mines have turned up in Mogran, anti-vehicle mines in Omdurman and Bahri. UNMAS describes the capital as “heavily contaminated.”
The human toll is mounting. At least 49 civilians have died from explosive remnants since the army’s return, many of them returnees who stumbled across ordnance while trying to reclaim homes after years of displacement. In one park alone, DRC and JASMAR teams removed more than 12,000 items. Residents report finding grenades under floorboards and mortar rounds in backyards. Schools, markets and hospitals – places that should be safe – remain littered with the detritus of urban combat.
Deminers describe the work as painstaking and psychologically draining. Every piece of twisted metal must be treated as potentially lethal. One wrong move, one overlooked pressure plate, and the job ends in tragedy. Yet they press on, knowing each cleared square metre lets families come home. Sudanese women have emerged as a quiet force in the effort, serving as deminers, community liaison officers and explosive ordnance risk-education trainers. On International Mine Awareness Day they were celebrated for reshaping the sector through leadership and deep local knowledge.
The broader picture remains daunting. Sudan’s conflict has displaced millions, destroyed infrastructure and left entire neighbourhoods uninhabitable. UNMAS and partners are coordinating with humanitarian agencies to open safe routes for aid and returns. They provide risk-education training to aid workers and civilians alike, urging people not to touch suspicious objects and to report them immediately. But funding gaps threaten continuity. Flexible, unearmarked contributions have shrunk, forcing agencies to stretch limited resources across an ever-widening map of contamination.
For ordinary Khartoumi, the deminers’ orange vests have become symbols of fragile hope. One resident who recently moved back to a partially cleared district told local media she still checks her children’s shoes every night for shrapnel. Another, a teacher whose school was cleared last month, said simply: “We can finally think about reopening classes – but only because someone risked their life to make it possible.”
As fighting continues elsewhere in Sudan, Khartoum’s silent killers may prove as deadly as any active frontline. The men and women in the orange vests are fighting a slower, quieter war – one measured not in territory gained but in lives preserved and futures reclaimed, one careful probe at a time.
